


the prince and the puppet

by pawns (driftingstar), TestyCanadian



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! ARC-V
Genre: Don't Read This, Dubious Consent, Dubious Morality, M/M, Murder, Non-Consensual Bondage, Non-Consensual Groping, Nudity, Rape/Non-con Elements, Scary Yuuri, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Why Did I Write This?, Yuuri being creepy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-04
Updated: 2017-05-04
Packaged: 2018-10-28 04:18:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10823598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/driftingstar/pseuds/pawns, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TestyCanadian/pseuds/TestyCanadian
Summary: The "Mad Prince" Yuuri is eyeing up a new prize and Yuugo just really wants to go home.  Vaguely based on 'the Prince and the Pauper'.Royalty AU. Scenery porn. Dark themes. Casual murder.  NSFW.





	the prince and the puppet

**Author's Note:**

> This is your last chance to turn back.

 

Yuugo’s morning went from bad to worse when someone shoved a gag in his mouth and yanked a bag over his head.

 

He screamed and thrashed as his wrists were twisted behind him, flinching at the bite of cold steel against his skin. His captor ignored his muffled protests in favour of clapping heavy iron shackles around his hands and feet and all he got was a backhand across the face for his troubles. 

 

His mind reeled from pain and confusion as his struggling body was hoisted up onto someone's metal-plated before he was transferred over a back of a horse and bound roughly to the saddle with thick hemp ropes.  This left him in an understandably bad mood as the horse broke into an uncomfortable gallop, bouncing his head roughly against its flank with no way to adjust his position.  

 

If they hadn't shoved that foul-tasting gag into his mouth, he would have been swearing like a sailor.  Because  _ what the fuck _ ?

 

If he was reading the situation right, Yuugo was definitely being kidnapped.  

 

Or arrested, he amended, when he remembered the sound of clanking as he was moved.  Whoever had nabbed him wore full armour and had a horse which mostly ruled out common thugs and bandits.  And it was a no-brainer that the only ones around here who could afford armour or horses would be the royal Knights.   

 

But as far as Yuugo could remember, he hadn't  _ done _ anything to warrant this kind of treatment.  Recently. 

 

“Let go of me, you ugly metal dildo,” Yuugo tried to say but it came out as angry, muffled screaming instead. His kidnapper paid him no mind and after ten minutes, Yuugo’s throat was starting to hurt and the blood was rushing down to his head. His wrists were chafing and he was left winded every time the horse's hoofs came down. 

 

By the time they finally came to a stop, Yuugo was dizzy and disoriented and only put up a token fight as the men untied him from the saddle and threw him back over a metal pauldron. He spent the rest of the uneven, jostling trip biting down on his gag to keep himself from losing his lunch.

 

He heard the creak of doors sliding open and was unceremoniously dumped on his knees on a cold stone floor.  A thick, gauntleted hand wrapped around the back of his neck and shoved his head down until his cheek was pressed against the ground.  He let out a half-hearted expletive but was mostly too tired to be properly angry. Or scared.  

 

“I have brought him, Your Highness.” 

 

At that, Yuugo let out an alarmed noise.  The hand moved up and yanked the burlap sack off his head in one rough motion and Yuugo groaned as the light suddenly stabbed his retinas.  He was stuck blinking the spots out of his eyes as his captor yanked him backward.

 

Eventually, his vision cleared and Yuugo found himself in a grand, extravagant atrium with walls made of dark marble and covered in velvet tapestries.  Sitting with his knees crossed, atop a golden throne inlaid with sparkling gemstones was a boy about Yuugo’s age. Neat, violet hair curled gently around his boyishly handsome face - a face, that looked exactly like  _ his _ .

 

But that was where the similarities ended. 

 

Unlike Yuugo’s dirty and ragged appearance, he was dressed in dark violet silks edged with elaborate gold embroidery.  From his clothing to his posture, to the sharp, cunning look in those reptilian eyes, every part of him screamed elegance and power.  And he looked displeased. 

 

Yuugo sucked in an involuntary breath as the boy’s lips curved down into a frown and those unsettling eyes seemed to penetrate through him as they swept across his body.  His heart started to beat a frantic rhythm in his chest as he was bombarded with all kinds of horrible premonitions from his overactive imagination.  There were only a handful of reasons for why a nobody like Yuugo would be brought before the _fucking Mad_ _Prince himself_ and none of them were remotely good. 

 

There wasn't a soul who didn’t know about Prince Yuuri of the Thorns.  Prince Yuuri, the Sadistic.  His name was always spoken the same tones that one would normally use to speak of the vilest terrors lurking in the night.  Hushed and fearful, like invoking his very name would summon him to plague their doorsteps. There were rumours about him, each more disturbing than the next.  They spoke of his lust for blood and violence, his mercurial temperament, and his bizarre and unnatural appetites.

 

Looking up at him now, Yuugo could only shiver. Frozen in place and pinned by his scrutiny like an insect beneath a glass.     
  


“So you have,” he said with a dangerous purr, eyes flashing as he leaned forward with his hands clutching the armrests.  There was a note of gleeful anticipation that accompanied his words and it only served to make Yuugo’s terrified discomfort grow. “Now, tell me.  What were my very  _ specific  _ instructions?” 

 

“Sire?” The armoured asshole said it like a question and Yuugo could feel his fingers twitch convulsively against the back of his neck. 

 

“Go on, then,” the prince encouraged, waving a hand lazily in the air.  “Repeat them back to me. I don’t like to be kept waiting.”

 

“I--” The guard drew a breath and spoke in slow, halting tones. “Your Highness.  I did as you asked, I located a peasant boy that shared your… your divine resemblance and I have brought him here before you.”   The smile on Yuuri’s face grew and stretched, but something told Yuugo that hadn’t been the right answer.  Apparently, the guard thought so too because he stumbled backward when the prince rose to his feet with an elegant flourish of his robes. 

 

Yuugo didn’t blame him.  The temperature in the room plummeted with each step the royal took.  He stopped in front of his kneeling form, lips still curved in that unsettling grin as he crouched down until they were face to face.  This up close, Yuugo was once again struck by how identical they looked, down to the curve of their cheeks and the shape of their eyes.  It was like gazing into a distorted mirror and seeing bits and parts of himself rearranged into something monstrous.

 

He had never been the type to scare easily, but even he couldn’t suppress a flinch when the prince suddenly reached up.  His fingertips were as cold as ice as they traced down his dirt-covered cheeks, lingering at the cloth gag that bit into his mouth before they closed around his chin.  Yuugo let out a muffled yelp when the fingers jerked his face up, turning it this way and that like he was a piece of merchandise under inspection. 

 

Yuuri tutted, pressing a thumb against the bruise on his cheek and Yuugo growled in displeasure before he could think to stop himself.

 

“Close,” Yuuri said in a quiet purr as he let his chin drop.  “Very close.  But I do not employ you for  _ close _ , do I? Now, tell me.  Did I say I wanted him  _ damaged _ ?”

 

The tension in the air was so thick that Yuugo could choke on it.  Even though it wasn’t even directed at  _ him _ , it sank like lead in his lungs as he waited for the answer.

 

“I-- Your Highness,” the guard stuttered. “The… the prisoner was resisting--” 

 

“Wrong, again,” Yuuri cut him off and Yuugo could see his eyes narrow as all traces of humour fled his face.  “Not once did I ever mention the word ‘prisoner’, did I? In fact, this  _ peasant boy _ is meant to be my honoured guest. Are those ears of yours just for decoration?” 

 

Yuugo didn’t know which of them was more surprised when the prince suddenly  _ moved _ . 

 

There was a spray of warm blood, followed by a scream as the guard doubled back.  Although every shred of common sense told him that he shouldn’t, he turned to look and was nearly floored by a wave of nausea at the sight of his captor shrieking and clutching at a gaping hole in his head where his ear had just been.

 

“Y-Your Highness,” the guard wailed, his face twisted in abject terror as he shrunk back, curling up defensively on the floor.  “P-Please spare me! I am your loyal servant! I have watched over you since you were a child!  Please, Prince Yuuri!” 

 

It would have been funny were it in any other circumstance to see such a tall, burly man, cowering away from such a slight figure. But Yuugo just felt sick.  

 

Yuuri only clicked his tongue as his features knitted into feigned disappointment.  “Really? An appeal to my conscience at this stage?  I would believe it more if it wasn't for  _ this _ .”  Yuugo growled behind his gag when the prince suddenly yanked him forward again, tilting his chin up to display the darkening bruise.  “You didn't think twice about striking his face, did you?” 

 

The guard went still as a slow, horrified realization spread across his face. “You do not understand, Your Highness!  It was never my intention--” 

 

“No?” Yuuri cut in dangerously. “For a man that claims to be my  _ loyal servant _ , you were awfully cavalier about damaging my  _ exact _ likeness, weren't you?” 

 

Yuugo watched with dread as the guard flapped his mouth like a fish, but no sound came out.  The prince heaved a theatrical sigh and let Yuugo go again, his other hand idly flipping a small silver dagger.  When he spoke up again, his voice was disturbingly pleasant. 

 

“Now, I understand if you felt the need to  _ discipline  _ him, especially with how unruly this one seems to be.  Far be it for me to discourage such initiative from my subordinates. But you struck his face.   _ My _ face.”

 

It happened so fast that Yuugo completely missed it. In one moment, the guard was blubbering on his knees, and in the next, Yuugo was watching his body topple backward with the dagger embedded dead center in his forehead.  The body hit the marble floor with an ominous clash of metal.

 

Leaving Yuugo alone with a monster.

 

He would be stupid to not be scared. Hell, he was fucking  _ terrified _ .  Every cell in his body was practically vibrating with the need to  _ get the fuck out _ of this madhouse.  Hindered by the gag, his breath came out in thick, laboured gasps and his nails had dug red crescents into his palms with how hard he was clenching them.  

 

The rumours of the prince's sadism and cruelty were not at all exaggerated.  There were no words to describe the sheer  _ evil  _ that was rolling off him in waves. He could only imagine what this sick,  _ twisted _ creature was thinking behind those cold, inhuman eyes. Intelligent, but void of anything resembling human mercy.

 

“It is unfortunate you had to see such unpleasantness.  This was not how I wanted us to be introduced,” the prince said with another one of his uncanny smiles, like he hadn't just murdered a man in cold blood.  Yuugo might have been more convinced if he didn't immediately go to retrieve his dagger, yanking it out from the dead man’s skull with a sickening squelch.  He flinched, wishing too late that he had closed his eyes before that horrifying image seared itself into his retinas.  Perhaps it was some misplaced sense of bravery, or more likely, stupidity, but Yuugo did not look away.  Or more like he  _ couldn't _ look away as the mad prince approached him with soft, unhurried steps, like he was taking a stroll through the gardens.  

 

In reality, only several seconds had passed but Yuugo felt like he had experienced an eternity of nightmares before the prince crouched down in front of him once more.  

 

“Well now,” the prince said, eyes gleeful like a cat that had gotten the whole aviary, all the while turning the dagger over in his hands. The metal glinted silver in the flickering torchlight, flecked with deep drops of crimson. “Why don't we start by getting you out of those dreadful rags, hm?” 

 

Yuugo made a concerned noise in the back of his throat and went very, very still when he felt the flat of that cold blade against his cheek.  It took all he had not to gag when the prince hummed a soft tune and dragged the dagger along the curve of his face, smearing the dead man’s blood over his skin.  Before he even had time to scream, the prince brought the dagger down.  

 

But rather than the bite of metal, all Yuugo felt was a feather-light whisper of cloth against his cheek as torn pieces of the gag fluttered down into his lap.   For a long, moment, he simply stared, his gaze blank with incomprehension until his body caved to its need to breathe.  Yuugo spat out the remainder of the cloth, coughing shakily as his lungs tried to make up for hours of oxygen deprivation in the span of a few seconds.  The air tasted foul with an arid mixture of copper and decay but he gulped it down greedily anyway. 

 

All the while through his fit, Yuuri continued to appraise him, even running a hand through his dirty, matted hair in a decidedly creepy show of concern. 

 

“There, there.  You poor little thing,” he cooed.  Alarm stirred faintly in Yuugo’s chest when he noticed that the prince showed no signs of putting away the dagger and all his fears were realized when he hears the sound of tearing cloth and a blast of icy air hits his skin when Yuuri cut away the remainder of his clothing.  Mortification dyed his cheeks crimson as he gaped down at his suddenly naked body with eyes as wide as dinner plates. 

 

And the prince was staring at him too, eyes burning with fascination as they traced invisible paths along his exposed torso, into the dip of his navel and down to the fabric pooling around his thighs.  Beneath the shapeless peasant’s garb, Yuugo had the same thin, slender build that made the prince look so deceivingly fragile.  Slender wrists and slender ankles, paired with his unusually pale skin gave him an almost aristocratic appearance, beneath all of the dirt and blood. But unlike a noble, his body was covered with lean, labour-hardened muscles and calluses decorated his hands.  

 

The prince made an obvious show of inspecting his newest toy, humming softly with approval as he continued to explore him with greedy, roving hands.  “Oh,  _ not _ so little, are we?” The prince’s smile widened into what could only be described as a leer as he pressed a cold hand against his abdomen, absently kneading the hard muscle he found there.  “Of course, your face is perfect _ ,  _ but my,  _ this _ is a pleasant surprise.” 

 

When his hand started to dip lower, something inside him snapped.  Yuugo was exhausted and sore and hungry and now  _ cold _ , covered in nothing but the scraps of his dignity and he was  _ sick  _ of being terrified.   And cowering and groveling hadn't done his dead kidnapper any good.  

 

“What--” he squawked, his first attempt at speaking failing miserably when his voice cracked.  His second attempt was only marginally better.  “What the  _ fuck.  _ Get away from me, you, you creepy bastard!” 

 

Yuugo squirmed away from the insidious touch, shoving with his shoulders and elbows.  His skin practically burned beneath his touch.  Try as he might, he could not get the image of the dead guard’s face out of his mind; eyes rolled back in his head and mouth gaping open.  A shiver rippled through his body when the guard’s image was replaced with his own.  Would his face look like that after the prince was through with him?  Tortured and mutilated and left to rot on the floor.

 

If the prince took offense to his language or to his pathetic struggling, he didn’t show it. If anything, Yuugo’s horrified outburst seemed to deepen his amusement. 

 

“Now, is that any way to address your prince?” he cooed, suddenly digging his nails into his skin and dragging a pained hiss from his captive’s lips.  “Tut, tut.  We’ll have to work on your manners. But first…” 

 

Yuugo’s world suddenly tilted dangerously on its axis and he cried out in alarm when deceptively strong hands suddenly hook beneath his knees and in the next breath, he found himself hoisted into the air, his bound feet kicking uselessly as the prince ground his bony shoulder in into his already bruised abdomen. 

 

“Let me down,” Yuugo yelped, twisting his hands in the shackles as his nausea once again made itself known when the prince began to walk, jostling his already aching head with each stride.  “Let me  _ down _ , you crazy asshole!”  A deep, angry flush made its way across his cheeks when a particularly cold draft whispered across his skin and suddenly reminded him that the crazy prince had stripped him bare.  He squirmed in his hold,  redoubling his efforts to break free while pressing his knees together in an effort to preserve his modesty.  The prince tolerated his struggles all the way until they left the throne room from a different entrance and stepped out into a narrow hallway.

 

“Well, if you insist,” Yuuri said with a sigh.  Yuugo caught a brief glimpse of imposing stone walls lit by more flickering torches before Yuuri dropped him. 

 

White hot stars exploded behind his eyes as his head smashed painfully into the stone.  For a moment, all he could do was lay there, winded and aching as he stared up at the blurred ceiling with unfocused blue eyes. A pair of amused magenta eyes swam into view as the prince leaned over his body.  He waited a couple of seconds, long enough for the shock to wear off and for Yuugo to enjoy the consequences of his ill-worded demand, before patting his cheek a falsely sympathetic hand. 

 

“Better now?” To Yuugo, there was nothing quite as disconcerting as the sweet smile that now hung on the Mad Prince's lips as he cooed at him.  “And there's no need for name-calling, my cute little puppet.  I do have a name, you know.  You are welcome to address me as ‘Yuuri’, seeing as how we are going to get to know each other very intimately.” 

 

Yuugo was too dazed to answer back and was only able to manage a pathetic glare when the prince lifted him up again, this time adjusting his hold so that Yuugo’s exhausted head was tucked against his collar like he was carrying a bride, rather than a hapless prisoner.  Yuugo groaned quietly, inadvertently leaning into the prince's neck as he squeezed his eyes shut. It took him several agonizing minutes to regain his bearings, but by then, the scenery had switched on him again without his input.  The sound of running water made him crack his eyes back open. 

 

But the sight that greeted him soon had him gaping in astonishment.  Defying all expectation, the passage hadn't led to a grisly torture chamber or a cave of human bones.  

 

_ Beautiful _ , was the half-formed thought that drifted through his rattled brain. 

 

Sweet-scented candles bathed the room in a warm, flickering glow, casting living shadows against smooth marble walls.  Wild, climbing roses delicately carved into white, ivory columns, upon which the likeness of four stone dragons was perched.  From their open jaws, water rushed down in thick, hot jets, hissing into steam as it hit the enormous pool in the center of the chamber. Dancing across the water's surface were hundreds of pale, fragrant petals as tendrils of white steam curled up around them invitingly as if beckoning with thin, wispy fingers. 

 

While Yuugo was stunned into silence, Yuuri set him down on a cool, stone bench with a surprising gentleness and smoothed his matted bangs from his face.  The prince chuckled quietly at his expression, looking entirely too amused for Yuugo’s own good. 

 

“Never seen a proper bath, have you, little puppet?” he inferred with a kind of condescending arrogance that only royalty could manage.  Yuugo could only gape up at him as incomprehension spilled from him in near tangible waves.  He was reeling from confusion and the heat only served to make him dizzier.  

 

“‘m not,” he protested, words slurring together as the spots in his vision clear too slowly for his liking. “Not a puppet.” 

 

Everything had pretty much stopped making sense since someone put a bag over his head. Perhaps he had suffered some brain damage when the prince had dropped him on his head, but he just couldn't figure out his angle.  What was the  _ point _ ? Why bring him  _ here _ ?  

 

The prince hummed lightly, stepping away for a moment and Yuugo shivered at the sudden absence of warmth.  “No?” he asked with an air of patient indulgence but there was something unnervingly calculating in his gaze.  “Perhaps you're not, but that remains to be seen.”  Yuugo’s trepidation rose when he turned with an elegant swish of his robes and began to do something with his hands that he couldn't see.

 

Maybe, Yuugo thought morbidly, whatever the prince was about to do to him would be so messy that he would immediately need to take a bath afterward.  He shuddered, gruesome image after gruesome image flashing through his mind.  He should be more terrified, but a strange numbness was spreading through his body, settling over his thoughts like a heavy fog.  Yuugo felt oddly detached like he was having an out of body experience. It was someone else sitting here bound and naked, someone else’s heart hammering in their chest, just  _ someone else _ in his place.  

 

It was all too unreal.  An absurd, farcical setting that could only be dreamed up by a twisted imagination. There was no way an orphaned peasant boy would suddenly find himself under the mad prince’s scrutiny.  And… he had just watched someone die, hadn't he?  He'd done nothing as he watched the light fade from his eyes.  As he watched the prince approach him through a stranger’s eyes, a wave of hysteria bubbled up inside his chest and he doubled over, gasping and breathless as his throat closed up and his lungs began to burn like he was breathing in glass.  He wanted to scream and shout and struggle -- anything to escape this terrifying passiveness. 

 

He flinched when he could feel a gentle hand in his hair.

 

“Shh, shh.  Everything will be just fine,” Yuuri’s voice drifted into his ear, soft and warm and it would have been soothing if it was coming from literally anyone else.  He snarled, some of the fight coming back as he jerked away from his hand.  The same hand that had brutally ended a man's life, just moments before.

 

“Don’t  _ touch _ me,” he spat out between coughs, blue eyes flashing with fury. The disgust from being treated like a toy by this monster seemed to bring him back to his senses. “You're  _ sick _ .” 

 

Once again, Yuuri was unfazed by his insults, beyond a brief narrowing of his eyes.  

 

“And what  _ you _ are,” he said carelessly, reaching out to tug at a dangling gold cord. “Is filthy.”  Without warning, a torrent of tepid water suddenly rained down on his head.  Unprepared, he ended up gasping and water rushed into his mouth. He sputtered, choking and coughing as he scrambled to get away from the spray but with his ankles still chained, he ended up lurching off the narrow bench and falling to the wet ground with a pained groan. The only consolation for the angry bruises forming on his hips was the fact that he could breathe again.  

 

“What do you even  _ want  _ from me?” Yuugo finally blurted out after spitting out a lungful of water.  Tears stung at his eyes, running down his wet face in rivulets.  His unruly hair was now plastered to his cheeks, giving him the appearance of a small, drowned animal.  “If you're gonna kill me anyway, why don't you just get it over with?!”

 

“Kill you?” For a second, genuine surprise flitted across Yuuri’s face before threw back his head and laughed like the very idea was preposterous.  “I could  _ never _ . Where in the world did you get a silly idea like that?” 

 

Yuugo shot him a withering look, gritting his teeth hard enough for them to creak.  

 

“Are you fuckin’ serious?!” he screeched, finally at his wits end.  “You kidnapped me, had me  _ beaten up _ , then you murdered that other guy, then you took off my  _ clothes _ , chained me up like an animal, dropped me on my fucking head and now you're  _ asking me why I think that _ ?” 

 

The prince let out a scoff, placing a hand on his hip.  “Oh, come now.  There's no need to throw a tantrum.  For the record, I am only guilty for  _ two  _ of those items.”  Yuuri paused, a twisted smile playing on his lips as he knelt down on the stone beside him, lifting a hand to gently finger the bruise on Yuugo’s cheek.  “Like I said, you are my cherished guest.” 

 

“ _Cherished_ _guest_?” Yuugo echoed, with his voice rising an octave higher by the last syllable.  “Who the fuck are you trying to kid?! You don't chain up your guests!  You don't… don't _strip_ them and drown them, or, or touch them in weird, creepy ways!” He jerked away angrily, only to choke and gag when Yuuri to grab hold of his throat and jerked him harshly back within arm's reach.  

 

Ignoring his reddening face and weakened gasps, Yuuri continued on, voice light as if Yuugo’s brief rebellion hadn't happened.   

 

“And as you can see, that gormless  _ oaf  _ was already punished for his transgressions. I am not at all fond of  _ disobedience. _ ”  This time, the warning was unmistakable.  Yuuri waited several seconds longer, just until Yuugo’s vision started to flicker and dim, before letting go.  It was a good thing that Yuugo was already on the floor, as his limbs gave out almost immediately and he had a much shorter distance to fall.  Not that Yuuri let him, instead looping an arm around his thin, trembling waist and drawing him up against his shoulder.  

 

Yuugo moaned rather pathetically, eyelids drooping even as he tried to muster up the strength to keep fighting.  But he was so tired.  Tired and hungry and cold. His thoughts felt like they were sloshing around in a pail and his body was heavier than a sack of potatoes, only less useful.  And for a vile, sadistic monster, Yuuri was warm and part of him wanted to curl up closer when a cool draft blew across his wet skin. In that moment, he hated himself for it, hated his body and its human weakness. He drifted, black edges bleeding into his consciousness as the fog of oblivion settled over his mind.  The only sign that he was still semi-aware was that he could still hear the gentle murmuring of Yuuri’s voice as he continued to smooth down his wet locks like he would a cat.  

“But I concede you do have a point,” Yuuri was saying with a clear note of reluctance. Through the fog, Yuugo heard a quiet click and immediately felt a thousand times lighter when the iron shackles fell away from his ankles. It took him a few seconds longer to process what that meant. 

 

He could  _ run _ ! He was free!  He was…

 

… still weaker than a newborn foal as evidenced by his very unsuccessful attempt to struggle out of Yuuri’s hold.  

 

“Stop that,” Yuuri admonished, his hand back around his neck again, just tight enough to be a warning instead of another murder attempt.  Yuugo gurgled and glared up at him as much defiance as he could muster.  “I expect you to behave and I shall be very  _ cross _ if you do not.  Now, are you going to play nicely?”  Yuugo dearly wanted to tell him exactly where to go but the memory of those merciless fingers crushing his throat was too fresh in his mind. He settled for glaring mutinously before slowly dipping his chin in a tiny nod of acquiesce.  Clearly pleased, Yuuri’s grip finally loosened and Yuugo tried to gulp down as much air as he could while he still had the chance.  Yuuri’s touches grew gentle once more, brushing a stray wet strand of hair from his face.   “There.  Isn't this better?” 

 

This time, Yuugo’s body was limp when Yuuri hooked his arms beneath his knees and carried him by the pool.  He couldn't help but let out a quiet sigh when Yuuri set him down on the steam warmed tiles.  The heat became a welcomed balm against his chilled skin, even if cold dread seeped into his thoughts.  

 

He heard a whisper of cloth and he turned just in time to see Yuuri sliding off his extravagant robes and leaving them in a careless heap in the ground.  Although he was no stranger to nudity, since the only baths available to the peasants were communal, a deep red flush lit up his face and his mouth went dry.  It was little wonder why the populace tended to believe that the royal family was blessed by the divinity.  Yuuri’s thin, lithe body looked like it was sculpted out of living marble by the hands of a master artisan.  With pale, flawless skin, Yuugo was hard-pressed to find a speck of imperfection in his form.  A beautiful cage to hide a dark and sinister mind.  

 

But now was  _ not _ the time to be admiring who Yuugo was sure would be his murderer.  Panicked, he backed away as far as he could go until he was right at the water's edge.  His eyes were unwillingly drawn lower, down the smooth panes of Yuuri’s chest, to his taut, flat stomach and then finally below his hips where his manhood stood proudly. 

 

A horrible realization sprung to his mind. Suddenly, he was all too aware of the unnatural interest the prince had shown for his body.  Those unwanted touches ghosting across his skin, the eyes that greedily drank in his form. His throat closed up and his stomach twisted itself up into giant knots as his hands gripped the edge of the stone.   He shivered.  Little beads of water dripped from the tips of his hair had clumped into thick, wet spikes.  They ran down his neck and back in cold jolts.  Once again, he wondered exactly why Yuuri had singled him out and had him brought here.  Why him?  Because they looked similar? 

 

“You’re naked!  Why are you naked?” Once again, Yuugo blurted out without thinking, hunching defensively as if to shield himself from further scrutiny.  

 

“And why wouldn't I be?” came the amused response as Yuuri slowly sauntered over, in all his pale, nude glory.  He put his arms behind his back and held the position, stretching luxuriously.  Yuugo could see his muscles rippling beneath all that nearly translucent skin and the sight stirs something inside him. “This is a bath, after all.”  

 

Yuuri hadn't explained a thing, but it didn't take a genius to figure out where this was headed. Yuugo stiffened when Yuuri’s sharp-nailed hand landed on his calf.  His tension rose when the prince started to trail little absent patterns in his skin while humming thoughtfully under his breath. 

 

“You poor thing.” Yuuri clicked his tongue, frowning as he continued his examination of Yuugo’s body. He dragged his fingertips across his many scars;  white lines from healed abrasions, traces of faint burns, the fresh bruises from his rough treatment earlier.  His story told by the imperfections in his skin.  “Life wasn’t kind to you, was it?”  

 

The difference between their bodies couldn't be more pronounced; Yuuri’s was pale and pampered with impossibly soft skin while Yuugo was caked in so much grime that it was difficult to tell what his true skin tone actually was.  It made him feel oddly chagrined.  Embarrassed to have someone examine his imperfections so thoroughly.

 

Too exhausted to muster up more than a weak glare, Yuugo stubbornly kept his lips sealed shut.  He didn't want to give him the satisfaction of getting a rise out of him again.  Silence seemed to be a safer choice so at least his words couldn't be used against him. So as much as Yuugo wanted to scream and curse and maybe bash him over the head with his thick shackles, he continued to grit his teeth and bare the invasive touches. But Yuugo’s resolve was tested when Yuuri produced a washcloth and dipped it into the pool.  Smiling with a sinister sort of gentleness, he swirled it around in hypnotic circles until the white cloth slowly darkened. Yuugo yelped when a hand suddenly clamped around his ankle to hold it still.  

 

“What are you doing?” He couldn't help the high-pitched question from leaving his lips as he tried to shake himself loose, eyeing the damp cloth like it was soaked with poison. 

 

“Washing you, puppet.” The prince’s smile was ever so smug as he pressed the dripping cloth against his skin. The contrast of the heat from the water against the chill of Yuugo’s wet skin made him gasp as a pleasant shiver danced up his body.  With a care that both surprised and concerned him, Yuuri began to slowly lave his foot with slow, sensual strokes. Each glide of the impossibly soft cloth against his skin made his body tingle with warmth and Yuugo soon found himself biting his lips as Yuuri dipped the cloth against his sore arches and lavished each of his toes with attention.  Once he deemed his feet sufficiently clean, the cloth started to slide up along his calves.  The slow touches were doing something to him. His face was flushed and his limbs went slack as that unwanted heat continued to spread through his body like a contagion.  An embarrassing noise bubbled up in his throat as Yuuri brushed against his inner thighs. 

 

“W-Wait, stop,” he gasped, back arching as he squirmed in place, only just becoming aware that Yuuri had nudged apart his legs for better access and leaving him completely exposed.  His face was now a violent shade of red as he lay, splayed against the white stone tiles with his knees pushed above his waist.

 

“What's wrong, puppet? Getting shy, are we?” The prince asked in tones that sounded more amused than concerned as he continued to trace little circles against his skin, caressing his thighs, dragging the damp cloth against his belly, each motion deliberate and threatening.  “Don't worry, you don't have anything I haven't seen before.” 

 

But contrary to his words, Yuuri was staring intently, those slitted violet eyes clouding over with intent and some darker emotion Yuugo couldn't name. 

This only made him panic harder, fighting to press his thighs together again, but Yuuri put a stop to his struggles by wedging himself firmly between them.  He pressed down with his elbows and trapped his squirming legs in place with insulting ease. 

 

“I can wash myself!” Yuugo exclaimed indignantly, flushed and flustered to be subjected to such unwanted scrutiny;  prodded and poked at like rag doll.  Like a goddamn  _ puppet. _ And in the prince's eyes, that was exactly what he was.  A new toy.  A novelty. 

 

“Relax.  You're too tense,” Yuuri said almost gently, but the warning in it was clear.  “I am bestowing you a great honour, you know?  For a prince such as myself to deign you worthy of my attention. But if you make too much trouble I just might get tired of you.  And we both know what will happen, don't we?” 

 

Yuugo immediately clammed up, gritting his jaw until it hurt, once again thinking of lifeless eyes rolled back in their sockets.   Yuuri hummed and continued his relentless assault, a wicked glint in his eyes as he watched the colour in his cheeks rise.  He made a show of dipping the cloth back into the water before pressing the soaking cloth teasingly against his member and Yuugo flinched bodily like he had been struck by lightning, nearly biting through his tongue to force down on a revolted scream. “St-stop it!” he shrieked, twisting furiously as a violent blush bloomed in his face. “Where the hell do you think you're touching me?!”  He kicked out haplessly, toes scraping the air and doing little else to help his cause. 

 

“I did say I was going to be washing you,” the prince tutted like it was Yuugo’s own fault for not paying attention.  “And this part is especially dirty!  My, I’ll have to be  _ extra _ thorough.”

 

The mad prince’s eyes glittered and seemed to take Yuugo’s disgust as encouragement, smile stretching wide as he started to lavish his cock with the same, persistent attention.  Deep, rough caresses alternating with light, teasing touches that were slowly but steadily driving him insane.

 

Yuugo squeezed his eyes shut and did his best to pretend this wasn't happening to him.  That every slow caress wasn't making waves of painful pleasure ebb through his body.  That this insidious heat wasn't crawling through his veins and making his heart beat faster and faster until he feared it would burst.  

 

Try as he might, ultimately, his attempts at keeping silent failed and a particularly loud and pitiful moan spilled from his lips.  He froze, tasting copper in his mouth as his eyes grew wide.  That sound couldn't have come from  _ him _ .

 

“So sensitive,” Yuuri crowed with that same, mocking delight and it made Yuugo balk. It was vile and disgusting and  _ wrong…  _

 

_ But it felt so good _ .

 

“S-Stop it…!”  He could scarcely recognize the sound of his own voice, low and pitiful and hoarse as more and more pressure continued to build inside his belly, searing fiery paths through his veins.  But it wasn't until the cloth was replaced by Yuuri’s warm, possessive hands that Yuugo finally broke.

 

His vision exploded into white as his body lurched off the marble, spine curving backward.  Screaming filled his ears and it took him a second before he realized it was his own voice.   In that moment, the world felt weightless and beautiful and  _ free _ , until his limp, spent body crashed back down onto the ground.   

 

His breaths came out in harsh bursts, exertion dotting his skin with perspiration.  Throughout all of it, long, graceful fingers carded through his damp hair as a gentle voice whispered reassurances in his ears.  Yuuri pulled his hand away and it came away coated in his pearly release.  Yuugo could only lie there, chest heaving and eyes glassy as he watched Yuuri flick out a tongue to taste the results of his victory. 

 

“Hm, you don't have much stamina, do you?” The mad prince commented but the grin on his face was far from disappointed.  “But that's something we’ll work on.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Don't say I didn't warn you!


End file.
